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EDWIN MARTIN, Proprietor.
Devoted to Homo Interests tmd Culture.
TWODOLL.1RSA Yortrin Adrnnw,
VOLUME IX.
‘v>V'
PERRY, GEORGIA, TEURS AY, DECEMBER 25, 1879
iR 51
“ACCORDING TO HIS WORK”
Jot the unmber of ctpi^talODis,
Butcliair fatUrfuLwtae employ 1
l£tlicjucawire ol-Uieeervico •
That doth glvo the Jladtcr joy.
He doth not regard our person
Jor the station that wo fill;
‘But the greatest in his kingdom.
Are the least who do his wEV
Whercso’er my Father callcth—
Whatno'er he bids me do.
Is the only field of labor
Which his grace shall bear me through.
‘TiB not mine to chooBO the manner,
neither to aiippint tiie place—
But to labor for his glory
In a Urge or humble space.
lie dolh over sec his vineyard,
Uiidewtauds its every r.ped.
Give the quick’niug of the spirit,
Which does germinate the seed,
•Paul may plant, Apolios water;
A‘id in labors nevor coaso ;
Bet to God must be the-;.glory.
Who alone d. t’i i ivo in.-reaso..
Ho tint sowoth ho that reapeth,
Both together'shall rejoice
In the fullness of tho harvest;
And with glad united voico,
Ping his praises when he biddeth—
Hich reward for their employ—
“Well done good aud faithful sorvant,
Enter thon thy Heelers joy,”
American Messenger.
STEPANE MAKAltX®
Ticture of a Pt.T<an .’s Life in a Russian
Gomipune.
BY HENRI GREEY1LLE.
TRANSLATED BY VIRGINIA CHAMPLTX,
PAilTII.
(CONTINUED.)
For th'o first time Irina felt -afraid.—
Tho following Sunday a pons.'Uitjfrom a
neighboring village came to borrow Stc-
jiano’s two horses, which tlio hitter had
sold without snying a word to any one.
“Why ill you sell your horses?” ask
ed bis wife, sulkily. when the peasant
bud left,
‘•Hei-iiuso I mean to sell everything;
everything except the house which my
father built with his own hands.”
' “Hut what shall I live ou?” snarled
tlio exasperated II - kills.
“W.irk!” answered the pviiibss hus
band.
Ho did an ho said. One bv one he
tilled bis liens and goo.*?-, which he
madoAiiioiacook for hiiusolf; he sold
ilia c i\vs anil wagons aud tools, and
tunefully locked up tho mouey which
bu 4rrw from the id ftichiua’s ileposito'
ry. “I un a day laimrer now,” lie said
ou.i evening Irina. “I have no Ion
ger anything tijiiip my house aud my
sbirt; yon cau no fpnger nsk me for
uioury. I have eaten aikt iV'tnk it all,
and non I have nothing; nothing — noth
ing.” i
Ho burst out laughing and sat? down
Opposite to her, lo get a better' look at
her face; she then perceived that he
was in tori gated. Before hi* wife's; re-,
turn he hud uever tasted brandy, and
lie would never have crossed the thres
hold of the public house but for her re
turn. It was Irina's hand which had
plunged him into that abyss.
Wheu she reproached him for his in
toxication witjh her uau i! sharpness, he
shouted: “Hold your tongue! It is yon
who are the cause. Don’t put mein an
ger, because—some day--you see, if
you auger me too much, ! shall kill yon.
—I told vou so once; don’t you remem
ber?”
She drew back iu terror, and Stepane
vnj|it off to bed.
The next day Irina Went to the star -
china.
“My husband is letting me die ol
starvation,” she said to him. “I
brought him a dowry; make him give
it back to me.”
“While yeur hjusjband was at Koursk
you carried oj£ your dowry,” replied
the old man in a severe tone.
Iritm returned home in a state of ex
citement resembling intoxication.
When Stepane returned she over
whelmed him with reproaches, and this
time so provoked his, anger that he
struck her more roughly than he had
ever done. Iustead of proving to Inna
the necessity of being more prudent,
this 1 sson seemed to excite in her
spirit of revolt ami fury. She restrain
ed herself in speech, it is true, but sh9
sold or bargained all the household ar
ticles, so that one evening Stsnane
found in his lioose only the four walls,
the holy images, upon which no one
would have dared to lay a profane
haiid. and Irina’s trunk, always -filled
with fiue dresses and gaw-gaws.
He was drunk this evening; but he
was generally gay in his intoxication,
ho went off into a fit of laughter,
“You can’t seH anything more, wife,”
he saiil to her;, “you havo only vour
dresses left; There is where I have
Jon; since you won’t work, yon will sell
them, too; your dresses—your beautiful
dresses—those I haven’t given you—
Sjose you brought back from the city.
That will be droll, thougli! Hatha IT' - .
, -^hd overcome with the maddest
■'‘tighter, he tumbled over backwards
° Q ^he bench. In her blind anger Iri-
went up to him-with clenched fists..
'•'‘-’Pane’s gnyety suddenly vanished,
.v 1 ® 6J03 £ iared *'tli a sombre fury.
Yon!” he mid, “you!. To dare to
“ttalen your master.
Take care.”
£3i mm I -1
“Give me bread,” cried Irina.
“I am a day laborer; ba one yonr-
self.
“Where has your money gone, you
miserable thief?”
“Thief!” cried Makarief, rising.to his
full height, his intoxication passing off
by degrees. “I a thief? A thief calls
me.a thief, ifpes she? Listen, woman,”
he said in a calm voice, “don’t make
me angry, To-day I am^master of raj—
self; to-morrow I may not be, perhaps.
I make you no reproaches, that ought
to be enough for you. Leave me
alone.” Thereupon he went out.
“The money! 1 ” Irina called .after him
in a fuiy, “what have you done with
the money?”
But Stspane was out of hearing. Iri
na was so worked up that- she conld
hardly sleep; her blood boiled within
her aud her fingers itched to.“m&c
some one. When day came she sat on
the floor for several hours, p mderiug
wbat she could do for revenge. Seated
before the stove she bad meditated
since morning, mechanically splitting
smail sticks of wood with a hatchet.
From time to timo she hit her fingers,
but did not perceive it;, all her powers
of reflection were concentrated on her
purpose of revenge: The day was
gloomy and cold. Tae first snow,
which had falleu in the morning, had
melted on the grouud, leaving muddy
pools here and there. The sky was
dark and lowering, and the night was
coming on. Irina, looking out of the
window, thought it m;i?t loon bo time
fqr,supper and went out into the gar
den to look, for a few vegetables. " The
peasants were coming'homo from work,
one after another;!with their, hoes over
their shoulders and stopping to chat
before the doors.
No one spoke lo Irina; not because
they were severe->n_ber faults, but the
sympathy -'uspired by her husband was
changed into repulsion; towards the
•rife, and this finding herself put aside
was not the smallest cause for the reb
el s irritation, Ou descending her steps
she found herself face to face with Ani-
cia, who was entering her house with
t>vo pails of water suspended from an
nrrh in tho shape of a yoke placed on
her shoulders. Her children were
awaiting burnt the door. She walked
along stooping under her load. Ou
perceiving her the lawful wife drew
drew herself up in her pride, crossed
her arms over her chest with an air of
defiance, and took a few steps forward.
Her shadow ou the path caused Anicia
to raise her head. The humble woman
blushed on seeing Irina; a half-guilty
feeling made her dread the latter's
presence.
“Are you bringiug that water to
make soup for nay husband?” Irina ask
ed in an insoleut, mocking tone.
Anicia continued on her way without
answering.
“I ask you is it for my hatband.*”’
continued Stepane’s wife.
“It is for myself stammered the wid
ow, hurrying towards the door of her
hoyso.;
Drawing one of the pails roughly to
wards her, Irina made the pole tilt, and
immediately Anicia was inundated with
water, which streamed from her poor
garments to tho ground.
“You wicked woman!” cried tho eld
est of the children, with a threatening
shake of his little fish
“Do you dare call me a wicked wo
man, yen ugly toad?” retorted Irina,
turning her fury on the new-comer.
“Just wait a moment.”
And, befoie the mother could prevent
her, she had seized the child by the
throat and shaken her with such vio
lence that the little oue lost its breath
Just as he grew purple iu the face aud
seemed about to be choking, she hurled
him from her; then, like aa animal
canglit ih mischief, she ran off and hid
herself in a corner of her house, with a
vague apprehension of what was to
come. Tue dread of inevitable punish
ment troubled her a little, but her
heart glowed with pleasure at the ha
tred satisfied.
She resumed her catting of sticks. A
quickstep was heard on the- stairs; the
hatchet fell from her hands; she felt
herself growing cold; ii was Stepane,-he
seemed tu ba in a great hurry.
He entered; Slie rose wish a gesture
of fear, and remained standing. He
stopped before-her -and looked afr her
with eyes in which: the first trouble of
intoxication did not; extinguish- the fire-
of implacable anger. He closed the
door behind liim and approached his.
wife.
“What have you just done2” he said,
between his. teeth.
“I? Nothing,”'she-said, with a- tim
id gesture.
‘Don’t lie. What have yon -done?”
‘Wnat it pleased me to do,” she said,
with insolence.
His evil nature, a moment kept down,
rose up irresistibly.
. “Why did you strike Ani cin’s child?*’
Because I hate him,,’ sho cried:- with
a burst of triumphant rage,, “because I
hate all whom you love—that child and
the other, your sweetheart and your
self; and because would like to see-you
under the grouud.”
“Hush, you wicked woman!” cried
Stepane, striking out wildly at the air.
. “Yficked7woman, you* say? Then it “I do not fear justice, if the people in
is you who teach them to eallfme that?’ the city wish to send ma to Siberia, lot
You go to that creature’s and laugh sk
your wife, vour true wife. Yon provide
for her out of my property which I
brought you in'marnage.,’
“May the Lord forgive, megtbe day I
married you,” said Stepane, trying to
struggle with his intoxication; “that
day I committe d a great wrong.”
“A wrong, when you now live wit 51
Anicia so ”
“Hush,”,said Stepane stepping for
ward, his limb? trembling under him.
“He comes fromrtiis inn to moralize
time; he can’t stand straight on his
feet, and takes me to task for my con
duct.”
“Why did you strike Anicia’s child?”
resumed the peasant, with a drunkard’s
obstinacy.
. “Because I hate him, and the ot her,
and yon and her. I hate tho whole
world, but you moro than any one; and
I shall not be content until I see you
all knocked in the head like dogs.”
‘Yon struck Anicia’a child,” repeated
Stepane. “I told you I would kill you,
don,t you remember?”
T struck him. yes; and I will .strike
him again; and always, every time I see
him; ani her, too.”
"Don’t anger me,” said the peasant,
trying ip eollect’kimself; “I told you I
wonld kill you if you angered me.”
1‘Would you kill yoar wife to marry
that woman, wretched drunkard? iVell,
go-than; gaJfco her Jiohse and leave one
iu peace—come, go,” and she gave
him a disdainful push with force enough
to make "him totter. Stepane held on lo
the bench with one hand, and the hand
which touched the floor encountered a
ha’chet. He seized it, rose; and began
muttering like a madman. •
“Will you leave'Anicia fnfpej.ee?” be
asked, half stupefied.
“No, I will purine her as long as I
live,” said Irina, too much be.-ide her
self to comprehend danger. As she fin
ished the last words, she fell back on
the floor, The hatchet hud split open
her skuil, •
She mo vail once, slightly, bat spoke
no more.
Stepane looked at her a morneut with
-t.bi'ufir,h air, then let fall his weapon,
recoiled a few steps without takiug his
eyed from her and hid himself undar
the images in the angle of the two win
dows.
In the morning a peasant, being as
tonished at, not seeing any one come
out of tue house, of which the outer
door had stood open all night, ventured
to cctor. Hardly had he crossed the
threshold vtkea ho recoiled with terror,
uud fled to the starehina. The latter,
accompanied by ail those who had not
gone to the fields harriud to the accurs
ed hoaso. He fouud Irina just as she
had falleu, lying across the room iu a
pool of blood.
AjiiitiJfer ran through the assembly.
Clasping his hands' with a desperate air
the starolitoa stepped forward and
said to Stepane: “You h ire sinned be
fore the. sreator, Stepane Makarief-
Who permitted you to take the life of a
human?”
Without- lovering his eyes and with
out faltering Stepau9 raised his hands,
aud in in a clear distinct voico a ddress-
ed them nil; “Brothers,” he said, “you
know that I was a subm.ssivo son anc! a
good husband. 1 never disobeyed my
fajiuer, nor wronged the wife ha gave
mo. I did not love her, yon know if,
aud yet I kept her because the law or
dered it. Yesterday, out of sheer wick
edness, sio beat a little child, and, as I
reproached her. sha’ raised her hand as
if to strike me.” A murmarof indigua-
tioa run through* -the row of men. “I
did not beat her then, however* but
when-she told me tnat she had done
right, and that she would do it over
again every day, add then it became all
red before my eyes, and ‘I killed lier,”
He paused. Nothing broke the pe-rfeet
silence; every eye was fixed ou him.
Rosuming, he said; “I have looked at
her all night; I have thought incessant
ly, and I have weighed what I have
done. May God' pardon rue, I have
not done wrong 1”
With arms crossed he looked at the
5 rowd—his judges—and under his bold,
questioning look, all eyes felL No one
have dared to tell him that he was mis
taken; and, besides, among
these ignorant men; was there one who
condemned him in thought?
The feeble voice of the aged starchi-
na was raised in. answer. In this one
moment he had reflected’more than in
all his life time, and he pronounced
the sentence of this primitive tribunal.
“We are all’ sinners,” ho said, with
profound emotion; “no one of us knows
what he might have done had he be en
tempted, Brother, you killed— bnt
this woman was a wicked woman. You
said so. We are not lawyers, we are
your brothers, are we not? Is it for us
to judge?”
The voices, restrained by the feeling
that something momentous was now oc
curring, uttered a deep manner; then
all heads were riised, and in- one voice
came from every lip, “No, may God
pardon him!”
With arms crossed and eyes fixed oa
the bystanders, Stepane said further:
them,- *’1 shall not ask for mercy.”
“The city people have nothing to do
with our affairs here, said the starchi-
h&, waving his hand with a gesture [of
scorn. I will not denounce yon. Of
what nse would it be? Nor will your
brothers^ will you, men?”
Another murmer of approval ran
through the'erowd. Stepane bowed to
bis knees, saluting the tribunal that
had granted him mercy, but lie did not
utter word of gratitude; his dignity
forbade that.
After a moment’s pause, the'starchi-
na said.- “Who "is going to ‘.bury this
woman?”
“I,” answered Stepane. “When I
have made the coffin, the women can
come and do the weeping, as U3.aal.
The crowd dispersed gradually. Tea
minutes'later Stepane cime out of.tb e
housl, which he fastened, and took the
road towards the wood, a hatchet—not
the same one— orgr his shoulder. He
passed on without‘speaking'to any one,
was absent all d ay, returning at even-
ing, and bearingj^p Bis head 1 a rudely
fashioned coffin. He went into the
house without cvllin g any one, and
c’osed' , 'tlie door. An hour later, he
came out and went to. the starchina’s
house.
“Mana," ha’s.ud tojhis friend’s'jvife,
“will you come and pay. the last duiics
to the dead? ”
The peasant woman shuddered, bnt
at a glance from her husband, rose to
abay,^ Spill shnddering, she went witn
another woman to pay the last aHeulions
to the dead, as necessary in t-be eyes of
tho Russians as was the' obultis in the
eyes of ancients on the funeral pas
sage-., '
When Ibis nloomy work was duly
fulfilled tifepaue thanked and dismissed
them. They had dressed Ibe.woman in
her finest afeire: her heaa covered ae-
cordin g io the custom 'of matrons and
concealing her hair, was bound with a
satin ribbon on which was a printed
prayer—a slight re.d] mp'rk above'the
ear alone iudicated Ihe terrible wound
concealed by the gold-embroidered
head-dress—a sort of mure which sur
rounds the face'like IbeEgyplianbanda-
lette. Irina’a love o? dress was grati
fied,, even iu death. “Let her take ev-
.^•yiibiug wilh her,” 6aul Siepane; and
he looked a few moments at the woman
thus adorned. The wicked woman’s
face had preserved t-be look of gloamy
anger it wore‘when he bud struck tho
blow. “May God p:,idrn you,” bo
murmured. Then taking her in-I'ia
pow efluiil arms, he laid her in the - cof -
fin.
At tha first gleam of daydight the wo
men came to weep over the dead, ac
cording (o custom, before carrying jer
to church. It was Sunday. Iriua was
to be, buried After parochial mats. The
priest wished it so. Was it bis laziness
that made him not wish to be- disturb
himself the next day,-or did L>e ioieed
know the truth, and did he wish to
shield himself from responsibility by
taking the entire population of two ox-
three vintages for accomplices of his si
lence?
As service was-ready to begin Irina’s
coffin, borne by six robust peasants,
proceeding towards the choir of tho
church, which was- strewu with pine
brunches. The face was uncovered and
the rich gold embroidery of the gar
ments glittered in the light of the-many
tapers. Mass, was performed as usual,
then, the last prayers being said, the
priest pat on bis mourning robe and
recited the service for the dead. The
peasants again, took np their bu-den,
amid tbe funeral wails of the mourners,
and borne it to the new cemetary situa
ted in a wood not far off. Stepane
Makarief had stood ell the time at tbe
right of the coffin. JHis attiinde showed
neither fear or boldness; but liis clear
and assured gaze seemed to spy to those
who met if, “Do you know what I
have done, and do you feel strong
enough to jndge me?”
When the coffin-lid was closed on Iri
na, andtheshovelfuls of earth heaped
up with the funeral haste ofi’grave dig
gers had been thrown back again, to
level the turf, Makarief thanked the by
standers, who—instead of having a fes
tivity as usual—seperated in. silence;
and that alone distinguished this-
strange ceremony from ordinary inter
ments.
Stepane, on feis, return home, was to
find life very hard. A civilized man
wonld have sold his house, the peasant
kept his and ended by getting used to=
living in it. A few months after Irina’s
death he proposed to Anicia to many
him, “Excuse me, Stepane,” she said,
“Hove yon as much as I have, bnt I
could not sleep in that room, you
know; let us remain as we are.”’
“As you please,” answered Makarief,
without feeling troubled.
Eight years have passed; the affection
of the widow and. Stepane for each
other has not diminished. Siepane is
rich, and, since his.wife’s death he has
never crossed’ the threshhold of the pub
lic house. And the justice uever heard
of this strange affair, which is the se
cret, not of one single villiage bnt
of nearly a whole canton. Stepane has
remained the same; not joyous and
oking as before his wifes .
calm and serious as on the day after.-
The writer of these lines saw him re
cently, and, being strack with his
counlenace. learned his history, not
without scum trouble, and- bribe after
bribe, from the peasants who know
him.
He is still handsome; his cuestnnt
beard surrounds the lower part of his
face; only his blue eyes seem to search
to the depths of ihe soul of those who
look at him, ns- it to say; “Do you
know what I.have done? and if you do
know, do you comdemu mo?”
[tus eso. }
THE MORMONS DEFIANT-
I • TO TEA. KEYS AND PARSNTS-
crHcos^sco,
ij> jrf
DREW’S WORK
AND THE EFFECT IT MUST HAVE,
We h»Te frequently called, attenfion
to the work done by Mr. John W. Drew
in this city in the temperance cause.
It is but fair tc say that the results of
his work has been a revelation. No
one dreamed when he came here quietly
and' went to work that he would get as
many as 1,000 signers. He has-already
secured over 3,500 aud will have A,000
betore the end of this week. The work,
wo submit, is unprecedouled, and in
deed unapproachable by any temper
ance revival ever known here before. It
is a remarkable fact too that Mr. Drew
has drawn his signers from the ranks of
the drinkers, and from all ranks of so
ciety. It is estimated that he has stop
ped some l,iS0 men or boys who emi
nently needed the reformation, and who
wero men who, drank periodically at
least, to excess. Btsides these he has
many moderate drinkers.
All this revolution has beea effected
quietly. There has been no hubbub
and no jawings. Eveu the saloon keep
ers themselves, after seeing what the
movement promised, Lave offered no
opposition, and some of . them have even
sought Mr. Drew and' expressod their
8jmpatlSy,'with his movement. He has
won tbe respectful attention of Ihe
whole people, arff the hearty co-opera-
sL n of the most of them. It will ol
course be said by those who affect to
sneer at the movement, that many of
the sig”»3s will violate their pledges.—
We might as well sneerat tbe churches
because any of those who join do Dot
remain faithfnl’to their vows. Touch
ing this point, a gentleman said to as
yesterday: “I have seen scores of tem-
yerance revivals, and have seen several
that died out in a short while, but 1
bave never yet seen a stogie one that
did not save to the very last some at
least of the inei. who had taken tbe
pledge. As a worker in many of them
I should always have felt satisfied if I
could have repaid me for all my work,”
So it will be with this blue ribbon rev
olution. If many do fall—many will be
saved—Atlanta Cvnslitution, Bee. 11 ih.
Doing op Men’s Linen.—A husband
complained that his shirt bosom and
co'lira were badly done up, and the
case was referred to a knowing shirt-
maker, and his answer was well worthy
tlio attention of housekeepers. “Yes,”
said the man, “the fault is with y&ur
laundress. While doing up your collars
she stretches them tbe wrong way.—
Damp linen is very pliable, and a good
pull wiiFafter a,fourteen inch into a fif
teen inch collar in the twinkling of an
eye. She ought to stretch them cross wi‘«
and not lengthwise. Then in straight
ening out your shirt bosom she makes
another mistake of the same sort.
They, also, ought to be palled crosswise
instead of lengthwise, particularly in the
neighborhood of the neck. A length
wise pull will draw the front of tbe
neckband somewhat under 1 the chin,
where it was never mean t to go, and of
coarse it spoils the set of y our collar.
With the front of your neck-band an
inch too high andyonr -collar, an inch
too long, yon have a most undesirable
combinatian.” The necessary changes
were made in the method of, the laundry
and all was bright with shirts and col
lars.
Whexeveb our Indians break out in
reb ellion and massacre the frontier set
tlers, we are told that it is because we
do not know ho w to deal with the sava
ges, and advised to cast onr eyes over the
border and study the Indian system of
Canada. Notwithstanding these, prais
rs of the Canadian Indian Bureau, the
Dominion appears to bave just as much
tronble with its redskins as we do, I
has a very unpleasant Indian diffienlty
on its hands at present, growing out of
the raids of sitting Bn IL’s band. These
have left their reservation traveling
no'rthward toward the camp of their
brethren who were engage^ to. the Min
nesota massacre of1872, and are endeav
oring to urge them to engage in a gen
eral massacre of the whites. Tbe siina
tion is regarded os critical to Canada-
ivnd fears are entertained that a grea,
Indian war with scon break oni.
A Large fly wheel, thirty feet in diam
eter. and weighing sixty ions, exploded
at the 'Rensselaer rail mill, Tro y. N. Y.
on Friday night, causing §10,000 dam
age to the building and fatally injuring
a heater named James Wallace.
A dispaeh from Yicktbnrg states that
the imports of Democratic bulidf.zii:
telegraphed from Delia iu the Radical
Campaign Commiitre of L>’i:isana are
false in e very particnlac. All the men
xeporied Irijb. i Iire alive and well.
A Salt Lake spi-ciitl reports the De*> {
ert News, the official organ of tho ilor-i 1 . i >ii»i iiiiif p-iin" =
mon Church, as saying that Ap«*«tUr! I wonld tovltq^yiiur sth-nti »u to tha*
John Tavlor, during tlrn Mormon Con-{ ‘'Bowinw ppimlar S.-ai"ii adupsed
. ", ’ . ■ -r , | by join County lhaird «f Ivlm-aiion f„ r
fernuce at Provo, near Lake Bu.li, !»„*,;* Sofi&R ol itoutoon Con.-tv, ,
day evening, touched upon the political j v j.,, * -- -
rights' of .tho Alormou reopen, conm., Ne 7 v - Gr,.tod R.adi-rri 0:. heart's Liter-.
tiou with tliegoverumeut of tho nation
the laws oi whiefi 1 should bo obeyed
uud its officers respected; yet there was
a pYtociplu in cuuuuetiou wilh oursociui
life, one of tuo greatest, principles ad
vanced by the riord lor the good of tho
human family, with which one of tho
laud was at variance. We know that
the Lord has transmitted the law of
plural marriages through Ins holy
priesthood. I kunw it, all decrees and
edicts of tbe world cannot change my
mind. He contrasted tho coarse of a
certain King when Dun id was cast into
theil ou of lions and that of I’residen-
Hayes when asked to gurdem one of onr
brethou. But then, suki the apostles
that King was heathen and tho latter
Christian. This qiu alien l-rgi.rdtog
our religious belief has been decided t.y
the courts, lie continod, and tho laws of
Gotl aro at variance with them. Which
will we obey? Here the speaker called
upon his congregation to manifest by.
v uistog their right hands if they were in
favor of .obeying tthe laws of God iu this
respect, which call was unanimously r. -
ponded to by the congregation. Fr< m
his expression by the apostles tlio Pu s
ident of the church (and ho certainly
wishes the woild to btlievo him,) un
questionably talks fight. This contro
versy is simply red uced to iLe point of
which shall prevail,, the laws of Ihe
United States or the alleged revelation,
of God to tue Mormon priesthood.
——»#*
AT TENTiON FARMERS!!
I01-E TO YOUR INTEREST.
I am before yon again with that -re
liable Fertilizer, known as Black’s.
It in useless for me to multiply words.
Just call on me at Perry and let me
show you some certificates from the
best farmers that used it this year, 1879.
They all speak well of it and advise you
to use it, I guarantee it when put up
and used according to Formula,
Respectfully
S. H. GATES-
Nov. 20—1S79-- ti.
45 Years Before the Public.
THE CENUINS
DR. C. MoLANE’S
CELEBRATED
FOR THE CURE OF
Hepatitis, or Liver Complaint,
DYSPEPSIA AND SICK HEADACHE.
Symptoms of a Diseased Liver;
P AIN in the right side, under the
edge of the ribs, increases on pres
sure; sometimes the pain is in the left
side; the patient is rarely able to lie
on the left side; sometimes the pain is
felt under the shoulder blade, and it
frequently extends to the top of the
shoulder, and is sometimes mistaken
for rheumatism in the arm. The
stomach is affected with loss of appe
tite and sickness; the bowels in gen-;
eral are costive, sometimes alternative
with lax; the head is troubled- with;
pain, accompanied with a dull, heavy
sensation in the back part There is
generally a considerable loss of mem
ory, accompanied with a painful sen
sation of having left undone some
thing which ought to have been done.
A slight, dry cough is sometimes an
attendant. The patient complains of
weariness and debility; he is easily
startled, his feet are cold or burning,
and he complains of a prickly sensa
tion of the skin; his spirits, are low;
•and although he is satisfied that exer-:
rise would be beneficial to him, yet
he can scarcely summon up fortitude
enough to try it. Id fact, he distrusts;
every remedy. Several of the above
symptoms attend the disease, but cases
have occurred where few of them ex
isted, yet. examination of the body;
after death, has shown the liver to
Have been : extensively-
AGUE AND F
Dr. C. McLane’s Liver Pills, in
cases of Ague and Fever, white
taken with Quinine, are productive 1$.
tbe most happy results. No better
cathartic can be used, preparatory to,
or after taking Quinine. We would
advise all who are afflicted with this
disease to give them a fair trial,
A lTe:rsc<-3!i bs i
i sN.rtV notii e. I d
_ lay stars, nsit;
For all bilious derangements, and as ’ »•’iodine ur.
a simple purgative, they are unequaled.
fli-y Rtsiifen.- JfeJ.i trirlmic.-
tu-s. Algebras. 11,-„ Hum ton's.
Bi>flli-r«. Ui.sii.ank niiittie.
Ugra;-hif.s f Speuecrinw
&>!•}■ Iwtifes, \Yol>-
stors Dietion.--
arii-s.
Bryant Stall Slrattuus-s l£ioK-lv < H«pin.i?
Mi-ssrn. lyisoti. BJn-keinnn. Tayli.r. Sr
Co., N. 1", Pi.btolt iu iii-Ukfci.ju ‘e>aboyi-„
Itori’s English
Glam mars anff Rlii-t-.
orics, Dana’s Crei.lni;it'8,.
. Fa queir.-’s Fivm-li Ctiurae ;
_ \\ in tilbury "s Gorman C-aifso;
Wt li’s St-ii-iiiilk- Wn.-bs, Whito’sln-
uttstria. Dina ins; bonks, Grave Botan
ies. and uttirij 8tK) otherT, xt'lloi.ks, foa-
sehoGls imi] colleges. These Books ca
be obtained of the booksellers and lend—
tng merelamts of Parry, or can bn pur
chased direct of.
ROBERT E. PARK.
General Asrent.
Oct. 23U. Mnct-u Uir.
SCA:R8QROUSH HOBSg,
HA WKiHSyiLLE r CA.
MOTTO—PEACE AND PLENTY!
THE S£\KlSW£S£3|';rj HOUSE ban recently lx»,n<
r tT *: r >' tI ‘ i!i « ,,cvr . dura ami conifer?!
nblo. Tab.c fnnu.il:ert with thrlic.it tlio market «r-
iords, ScriiniMiio.ito amt m-conmiiKlatinji, f'emi—
liindioits samjito rocia anAsttfl!cial attention laid tin
ctnumcrctai l..-irinta. A liaA- will mn t ovorr train
Hotol^grati- 1 iW iiU CrS ,u aud fro,u iluL)
B. F. cs \V. J. BOON,,.
Proprietors:
O haw ™- I I Fiunk H.BKYIIJ.K,.
Formetly Bicwu House j (Formerly Lanier House :
ntOi'lwIKTOltSi
MATieHAT Horn,
fiSACOW, - CEORCtA„-
BATHS FREEOF CHARGE
G?s andi, Waterjthroughaufc
the?House.
Ca*nmodious Rooms Fitted!
up with Furni
ture, Etc.
%
General
Jj
Merchants i
Commission-
and dealers in
Prodace, Provisions ami
Staple Groceries,
LSS/iE,
CER3EMT,
LATHES ASD)
PLASTERING HAit?'.
CORNER COTTON AVENUE and CHEERY ST„
MACOW, GA,
W* ASAIN prtoontrair card to (ho pcoplo ol
’ " Honaton, Macon and Dooly. comtlica. and
return our thaulck for the 'patronage heretofore ex
truded to ue. and ask a coutinnancc of the kbh,
and solicit new customers/ liuiaiinteaiug io all-
3atisfaction.- “ '■
i35 a jt*L3ZZq3/E. SEHXJS.
WHExT,
I. YE
OATS, AND
BARLEY;
J0NE8 ft COOK,
MACON, OA.
FIRST NATIONAL BANK,
sfirykcoisr,
Bank of Repo sit, Diseonnt ami Exclmr,-u
s«.
W W WEIGLEY,
Cashier.
I CFIiANT,
Frcsident.
FUBH1T0HE FFIiOHT FBEE
{ N ENTIRELY NEW AND ELEGANT STOCS ON'
3SZidt'%?
j sifPi p'
***"’ - Y AT KQKZ.
f.i-X
In:
BEWARE OF MUTATIONS.
The genuine are never sugar coated.
Every box has a red wax seal on the lid,
with the impression Dr. McLane’s Livkh.
Pills.
The genuine McLane’s Liver Pills dsk
the signatures of C. McLane and FLEiliN*-.
Bros, on the wrappers.
Insist upon having the genuine Dr. C. !
HcLane’s Liver Pills, prepared by Flera- *
ingBro^, of Pittsburgh, Pa v t':e market being ‘
full of iinhalibxs af the
Furniture f/.ai
.
'iCjZifi
and reioiradaiehort n-.t-ee.
• Scctlomon aud.
Ya|g
crclied diffierrntiy b:>'
J-rLtine, ■
